There's Only One Way Out.

Drug dealers and bad accents

Alex left a five on our table and we started walking the seven blocks to our apartment.
There were four guys standing near our door in the hallway. They were probably making a drug deal. The apartment's filled with dealers and users. Because I had to pay a lot of people to get out of the mob, my pocket was kind of depleted. We were living on the small salary of my janitorial work and Alex's busboy job. He works at Camille's, which is a restaurant in town with a 4.5 star rating. You'd think that would have nice pay, but it doesn't.
The men were looking at us now, probably seeing if we wanted to buy any, which we definitely did not. They were standing right in front of our apartment door. Can't they move and do they're dumb drug thing somewhere else!
"Excuse us," I said, "that's our apartment."
The biggest guy turned towards us and smiled devilishly.
"There you are..." said the big guy.
"Look! There they are Benny! There they are!" said the smallest man with a thick Boston accent.
"I KNOW SMOKES, I HAVE EYES!" the big guy, or I guess Benny, yelled
"DON'T BE SUCH A HOTHEAD!" Smokes yelled back.

"HEY! STOP!" shouted another one of the men, "Boss said we weren't supposed to fight!"
"Ticco! Who cares what boss said!" yelled the last guy.
"Sal,Ticco. Quit. We've got a job to do here." Benny said, " Now, where were we?"
They all started walking toward us with their hands outstretched.
"Oh no," I said, " Alex we have to leav~"
Everything went black